


You DO Have to Be A Prostitute

by ShinyOboe



Category: Flight of the Conchords - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, FOTC, Porn With Plot, Reader-Insert, Self-Insert, Smut, flight of the conchords - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-27 21:36:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10817220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShinyOboe/pseuds/ShinyOboe
Summary: This is about Flight of the Conchords Season 2 Episode 2 "A New Cup".





	1. Boring

**Author's Note:**

> There WILL be smut (probably starting in chapter 3). If you are not okay with this, PLEASE DO NOT READ!

How did you always manage to get yourself into these situations? You’d think after so many years of dating you’d have the hang of it by now, but your ability to judge people seemed no better than it had been at 16. This last guy, Dylon, just oozed sleaze from his every pore from the moment you met him, but what did you do? You gave him your number one night at that bar, then watched him walk away and try to feel up 3 barely clothed skanks on the dance floor. You clearly remembered these details, so you really had no business claiming inebriation as an excuse. You were a little surprised the next day when he texted you, but you were lonely and desperate so you agreed to meet with him. There wasn’t much of connection between you, but it had been so long you overlooked that tiny detail and invited him back to your place. The next six months consisted of you attempting what could barely be called a relationship and screwing this guy. Except you could count on one hand the number of times he made you orgasm, and you were pretty sure that was just random chance and through no effort on his part. 

It ended the previous weekend when you dropped by his place to pick up your sunglasses you’d left there the day before. He answered the door with a blanket wrapped around him. Your eyes widened and he closed the door until it was just cracked open enough for him to talk to you through.

“Uh, hey. Wh-what are you doing here?” he asked you nervously. You kept your cool even as the ire built inside you.

“I left my sunglasses here. Can I have them back?” Your response was clipped and sharp.He stammered something to the effect of “oh, yeah, yeah, sure, just a sec…” before closing the door briefly. You heard shuffling noises behind the door and he appeared a moment later, this time clothed. But he stepped out of his apartment and shut the door behind him to interact with you this time, all but confirming what you already knew. 

“Listen, it’s not what it looks like…”: he laughed nervously and gestured awkwardly with his hands. You steeled yourself to answer him and end this conversation...and “relationship”...as quickly as possible. 

“Dylon, I don’t really care, okay? Just...don’t contact me again, it’s done.” You tried your best to not let any emotion but mild annoyance show before you turned and walked away, not looking back. He didn’t deserve a second more of your time. 

You felt stupid for crying over some shitty guy who you barely even liked, and decided that the real reason you were upset was because you’d wasted so much time on him. Sure 6 months wasn’t that long, but to go that long with a person and get no emotional or physical satisfaction was just...frustrating. That was probably it. You were sexually frustrated. You just needed someone to give it to you real good and then leave. Never to be heard from again. It sounded like a perfect plan in theory, but remember how you got here in the first place? A random hookup at a bar. You decided that there’s only one way to be sure that you’d get yours in the bedroom. You could pay someone to do it. So next was the hard part: how do you even find a prostitute?


	2. Slightly Less Boring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is about Flight of the Conchords Season 2 Episode 2 "A New Cup".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There WILL be smut (probably starting in chapter 3). If you are not okay with this, PLEASE DO NOT READ!

Alright, today is the day! You woke up the next day later than you expected, around 11. That explained your good mood. You were usually so cranky in the mornings, but today was different. You went about your morning routine as normal, but as soon as you were fed and bathed you got to work brainstorming. Where to find a male prostitute in New York City? Surely there had to be at least one, right? You paced your apartment, wracking your brain for any information you might have stored about the subject when you heard a woman yell outside. You looked out your window to see a woman walking away in a huff from a bearded man with curly black hair and a red plaid shirt. The man had his hands up as if in surrender, and you assumed he was the reason she screamed. What had he done? He probably just catcalled her or something pervy like that. You continued to watch a little longer to see if he’d do it again. You saw a woman walk by and as she approached the man he leaned in close and half-whispered something to her. After a confused look from the woman, the man gestured with his head across the street to another man with thick black glasses and very prominent sideburns. The woman looked across to where the man indicated, shook her head in obvious disgust, and hurried away, The 2 men then began talking to each other, yelling to be heard from across the street. You couldn’t make out the words they were saying but decided you didn’t care. You were bored now. 

Plopping down into your chair, you began to rub your temples. You’d made no progress in figuring out where hookers congregated. After a moment to calm your visible vexation, you remembered you hadn’t checked your mail in a few days. You needed a distraction, so you slipped your shoes on and descended the 3 flights of stairs to the lobby of your apartment building. Your landlord was at the mailboxes, fiddling with his keys and murmuring under his breath. You swore you heard the word “prostituting” in there somewhere.

“Hey, Eugene!” He hadn’t realized you were there and looked slightly startled. He was always a little awkward. 

“Oh, uh, hello,” he answered as he gave you a small nod of acknowledgment and then looked away. 

“I’m sorry, did I hear you say something about a prostitute? I was actually looking for one and…” He looked back at you wide-eyed. “What is wrong with everyone today?” He looked shocked and annoyed then hurried away without answering your question. Well fine then. Damn, you thought you had something for a moment there. You weren’t sure why, but at that moment you remembered something. Seeing Eugene had sparked a memory of when you first moved in, In your closet you had found a nondescript, ordinary book. What was it called? You couldn’t remember just now but you had a feeling it could help you. You rushed back up to your apartment and started rummaging through your closet frantically. It was buried under boxes of clothes and shoes and random junk, but it was still there!

It was a little worn and dusty, and the cover read in neat typewritten script _How to Get It Done_. This was it! This had the answer you were looking for, you could just feel it! It looked like a super normal book at first glance. Opening the book randomly, you landed on page 79. The header read “Really Great Sex Tips”, and that section seemed to last through page 97. You’d have to come back to that later. It wasn’t exactly what you were looking right now for so you kept searching, and a few chapters later you found it.”Where to Go and Sell Your Body,” written in big bold letters. You skimmed the whole chapter and took away that the best place to find a prostitute would be at a hotel, specifically fancy ones and ones near the airport. Wow, this book really did have all sorts of facts. You had a plan now, so you made yourself look nice (just because you were paying someone didn’t mean you wanted to subject them to excess amounts of body hair) and headed out the door.


End file.
